Pages

January 31, 2013

WIAW. AKA WTF is that?

I'm sure you're dying to know how my Dragon Warrior Diet is going. I gave it up. It sucked. It sucked mostly because the ginkgo tree across the street lost all of its leaves just before Christmas, so there's no leaves with dew for me to combine with universe – uh – juice. So fuck it.

Today I tried a fast/cleanse thing. It sucked. It sucked mostly because when you fast, you don't really get to eat. When I don't get to eat, I wind up STUH-HARVING.

It started with this –

Looks like shitjuice. Smells like shitjuice. Must be –

some fucking cleanse drink.

If anyone says "nom nom" I will cut them.

I took a couple of fistfuls of supplements, too. It all gave me heartburn. Who knew being healthy could be so painful?

A few hours later I found myself sitting across a table from my husband while he snarfed down sashimi. I stole some. Fuck the fast/cleanse. I was STUH-HARVING. No pictures. He thinks taking photos of random, mundane food items is absurd and has threatened legal action if I ever do that to him in public. So picture it in your head – and do NOT say "nom nom." You will wind up bleeding.

More time passes. I try to pass off the sashimi theft as a blip in the food plan for the day. Not working because –

There was cookie dough in the fridge. Home-made cookie dough. You can think it but don't say it. A bandaid won't help what I would do to you. I took some for the road – a baseball-sized glob. It didn't make it far enough to be photographed so here's a shot of the empty bowl –

All that sugar helped me make it to my kids' bedtime. Thank GOD it was a lot of sugar so I didn't crash too early.

Once everyone else was in bed, I realized that "hmmmm. Maybe something GOOD FOR ME would feel good in my body? maybe it would help my body feel good?" Genius, I am. Unfortunately, at this point I had no energy to even look for a Chobani or make a SpiruChia Smoothie.

If the "What elite athletes eat" section of Matt Fitzgerald's book "Racing Weight" is any indication, it seems that the average super-hardcore age group endurance athlete maintains a stricter (read: over-done, over-thought) diet than the elites do. Yet the elites remain elite and the age groupers remain in their age group.

I once had a friend who really wanted to be a writer in the vein of Bukowski and Burroughs. The problem is, he couldn't spell "cat" much less complete a sentence with a noun, adjective and verb. But he could drink like a motherfucker. He died in a car accident, alcohol involved, no books written. Think about it.

Warning:

Most of what I write on this blog is bullshit and merely intended to entertain. None of it should be taken seriously. If you have specific questions about something, feel free to contact me. I am not a doctor. I am not a certified coach. I am not a nutritionist. I am neither a licensed fashion consultant nor financial advisor. That warm feeling you get when you read my work is all just smoke blowing up your ass. Oh, you're not into anal? My bad.